Peter hated Malibu the moment he stepped into the freshly renovated house. Resting his backpack and suitcase in the hall, he gazed around to see a tech dream-house. There was much to love, especially for a nerd like Peter who gaped open- mouthed at anything that screamed technology and science. And this house was the exact representation of that, only, Peter didn't even smile when he looked around taking in the white, grey and black, the glass panels and marble floor, it just wasn't...
No, no, no. He shouldn't compare this place to the Tower. He was only staying here for only a part of the summer not for the rest of his life, so why should he compare it to his home? And anyway's Tony told him he'll love it. Might as well look like it.
"You like it?" came Tony's voice from the front door. Peter turned around and a smile emerged onto his face. He tried to look excited and thrilled just to ease Tony for once in his life. He grinned, trying to make it look as real as he could, but the slight feeling of unfamiliarity wormed it's way into his heart, and he just couldn't bring himself to keep on putting up the act. He turned around to escape Tony's eyes and pretended to admire everything around him.
"Awesome."
The place was with no soul, no air of familiarity, nothing that even mildly resembled the warmth and cosiness he felt at the Tower. How he always felt protected and safe whenever he entered the penthouse as he stepped out from the elevator, taking in the faint smell of everyone living there, Tony and his motor-oil and aftershave, Pepper and her perfumes, the sweat the team brought when they arrived from the gym, even the smell of those freshly baked biscuits that still lingered in Peter's memory as all those smells came flooding back in the very moment he needed them the most.
"I'll show you you room, and you can go and explore. Pepper's gonna cook lunch." Tony said, as he placed his arm around Peter and took him up the glass stairs.
It was too empty. Too lifeless. Too not-like-the-Tower. Tony left Peter in his "room" yet the moment Tony disappeared downstairs, Peter ran out and into the corridor. He made a quick scan of the entire building, soon figuring out there were three floors all together plus two underground floors, one with a swimming-pool the other with a gym and the labs.
He felt so unmotivated, so bored by the thought of exploring this lifeless place, he sat down against a wall, hugging his knees to his chest.
Natasha realised this was his position for when he felt unprotected and vulnerable. Peter felt so spoilt and horrid at the thought of feeling this way, and so ungrateful knowing how much it would hurt his Dad if he ever found out about what Peter felt about this place.
He sighed and rested his head against the plain, white wall. He thought about what brought him here in the first place. It had been an entire week since the 'incident', and after the short talk on the roof, Peter and Tony haven't spoken again. Peter started avoiding Tony, the belief that he was the reason of Tony's suffering slowly began carving itself deeper and deeper into his mind, beginning to scare the relationship between them. Tony tried to reach out, but soon discovered that Peter wanted nothing to do with him, blaming his finals for the 'lack of time'.
The very image of Tony's pained eyes full of horror had become a certain reminder to Peter. Serving as a perfect example of how badly Peter hurt the people closest to him with his actions. How he was the reason for their suffering. He would never ever allow Tony's eyes to loose their brightness because of him. And the only way to that was keeping his distance.
He didn't realise when the his fingernails dug deeper into the flesh of his palm. Somehow that pain almost seemed satisfying, with the knowledge he deserved much more than a simple grounding. Peter was still surprised that his suit was still hanging in his wardrobe, having been more than sure that Tony would have taken it away. But he didn't even think of putting it on. He didn't deserve it anyway.
"Peter?"
Pepper. No. Not now.
"Hi." he muttered in response, as he raised his head from his knees and with a tired look gazed at the woman.
"Feeling alright? Lunch is ready." she said, a concerned look on her face. How long had he been sitting here?
"Oh, okay. Well, um, I'll come to the common-" before he realised what he had said, he found Pepper taking his hands into her own and squeezing them, "sorry, sorry, there's no common room here, stupid me." he smiled half-heartedly, bringing himself to look up into Pepper's eyes, that held too much love for his consciousness to handle.
"Peter? Is something happening? Do you need to talk with Tony?"
Tony. No Tony. That was a rule. And definitely no dad.
"No, no. I'm fine. I don't need-" why didn't he think before he said anything? Was he really going to say that he didn't need Tony? Dad? The word felt weirdly out of place.
"I don't need lunch." Peter said instead, seeing how Pepper frowned.
"Just tell us if something is wrong, okay?" Peter nodded, because what else was he supposed to do?
He arrived in the kitchen fifteen minutes later, dreading meeting Tony and Pepper. The billionaire glanced up from his phone and looked at Peter, who immediately turned his gaze to the floor as he sat down at the other end of the long table. He felt Tony's eyes following him, but he didn't dare meet them.
He found himself staring down at his food, not quite registering what was in front of him.
"Peter?"
"Peter?" His name again. And if they said Peter Stark, would he feel worthy enough to carry such a name? Did he deserve to carry the legacy of the Stark family, and not embarrass his dad who thought so highly of him? He wasn't as smart, as charismatic, as cool as Tony Stark, and he couldn't even keep those close to him safe, so who was he, calling himself a hero? A hero? After all the pain he caused Tony?
His lip trembled as he remembered Titan, as he remembered that look in Tony's eyes after he had woken up in the MedBay after he was stabbed.
A hero?
"I'm sorry. I'm not really that hungry. I...can I just...go?" he said, looking up into Tony's eyes which he tried so hard to avoid. He didn't wait for a response, he stood up quickly and climbed up the stairs and to his so-called room. He closed the door and jumped onto his bed covering his head with a pillow. His mind didn't forget to subtly remind him that the hard pillow lacked the faint scent of motor-oil, of his shampoo, of that exact smell that always reminded him that he was at home...that he was safe.
He didn't realise that the hour of laying motionless on his bed turned into two and that the faint knock on his door served more as a wake up call, than a reminder that he wasn't going to be alone anymore, as he completely forgot what brought him to his room in the first place.
He muttered a "come in" and quickly sat up on his bed, his muscle memory already kicked in, making him sit up immediately, fake a smile and grab a random book from his bedside table, pretending that the two hours were spent on being somewhat productive.
Tony entered the room and closed the door, trying to catch eye-contact with Peter.
"Hi."
"Hello."
"Can I sit?" Tony asked pointing towards the bed. Peter nodded his head and the man sat down.
"And you can put that book away because you reading War and Peace, really doesn't look believable." Tony said, smirking slightly. Peter blushed as he looked at the Russian letters in front of him, "don't ask me what it's doing here. I have no idea."
Silence arose.
"Okay, let's keep this short. What's up?" Tony asked, breaking the silence Peter began slowly getting accustomed to in his "conversations" with the man.
"Nothing. I'm just enjoying summer." Peter replied coldly.
"I've heard that lie too many times, Peter." the man responded tiredly.
"You're gonna have to hear it again. I'm fine." that came out harsher than intended.
"Yeah okay, I'm not really buying that, and I know that whatever is going on in that stubborn head of yours shouldn't be dealt with alone."
"There's nothing to deal with."
"So why are you avoiding me?" Tony asked simply, looking into Peter's eyes with a concerned glance. Peter had no response, or rather one he had no intention of sharing with Tony.
The silence lasted for the next two minutes.
"I need... I need to protect you."
Tony scoffed and shook his head in disbelief.
"Peter, you're sixteen, you're not supposed to protect anyone. It is not your job to keep me yourself, but mine, and mine only. Kid, I'm the one that's supposed to save your skin, not the other way round." Tony said, trying to catch eye contact with Peter, whose head was dropped staring down at his sweaty hands.
"You've fooled the world, dad. The entire world. With your suits, with your smile, with everything you say and do. You're Mr. God to everyone. Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist, Avenger. You've wrapped the world around your finger, charmed the world with your smile, amazed the world with your inventions-"
Peter suddenly looked up and stared right into Tony's eyes.
"You've fooled the world, the entire, wide world, but you can't fool me, or Pepper, or Rhodey, even the team. We've seen past the facade, past that wall you've built. We know who the true Tony Stark is. We know the man whose made it a point to save everyone close to him, to save the whole damn world, including the universe. But dad, if you save everyone, who saves you?" Peter paused, looking down again because the pain that suddenly flooded into Tony's eyes was too much for his guilty self to handle much longer.
"I've seen how you try to hide all your feelings behind that wall. Hide it from the world, letting them see the Iron, the superhero. Where's the Man, dad? Where's the part that's human? I've seen how you looked the day I was stabbed in MedBay, on the roof that night, on Titan, every single time I was dying, how you always blame yourself for whatever happened to me. If you're telling me that I'm trying to hold myself to some unreasonable standard, trying to save the entirety of Queens and the universe occasionally, then who the hell are you then?
"I'm killing you, dad. I throw myself into shit, and you always blame yourself, even thought it's my fault. I saw the pain I bring you. How you can't sleep at night. How those nightmares from Titan keep you up for days on end. I brought you all this. And if keeping my distance takes that burden I am to you off your shoulders, then I'll do anything to stay away." Peter said, looking up timidly up at Tony, whose eyes shown with a mix of guilt, anger, pain, love, concern, nothing of which Peter would like to continue seeing.
"Peter...kiddo...you're the best thing that happened to me. I don't know what did I do in my shitty life to deserve you, because I'm sure as hell not worthy of a Peter Parker, that came into my life so suddenly, who turned my life upside down, and saved me from myself. I don't deserve you at all. I've fucked up in my life that's it's a pain to even start counting, my father was an asshole, so believe me, caring for such a pure and selfless kid was like poisoning a puppy, I just couldn't grasp why in the world you continued to look up to me. Pete, my whole life was trying to prove the world that I'm better then my dad, saving the world that never liked me but needs me, taking the blame for everyone, paying for entire cities to rebuild themselves after shit I caused myself, and then drinking myself into oblivion hoping that all my problems will suddenly solve themselves. You saved me, Pete. You made me become a better person, you made me realise that I'm not my dad after all, that my past shouldn't be affecting the person I am today. You are my hero. Not Spider-Man, but the sixteen year old kid from Queens."
"Iron Man's not the hero dad, too. It's the man who builds the suits."
Tears started to roll down the boy's cheeks, and even Tony had trouble stopping the waterworks in his own eyes.
"You know. I don't like it here dad." Peter said after a moment of having their arms wrapped around each other, "it's not the Tower. I can't smell the motor-oil, the sweat, Pepper, Nat's and Wanda's perfumes, there's no "Tower smell" and this pillow is too hard and doesn't smell of my shampoo. I'm sorry, I really am but I just-"
"I don't like it here too, Pete. Seriously. I hate this place cause it brings too many memories, and I hate it even more now cause you don't like it. I like the dirty, old Tower, with the team popping in and out, I like my own lab with Butterfingers and U, even those stuffy New York streets, and even our tragic elevator music and even that couch in the living-room that still smells of paint. Peter, I really understand. Just tell me earlier next time so we can save ourselves the pain."
They smiled. A true smile this time.
"Let's go home then."
(A/N:) Okay, it's been a long time, but yey, here's the chapter and I hope you like it!
Anyway's, I'm considering this chapter to be the end of the book, however I would first like to hear form you regarding this before I officially announce this as the finale. But if I finish, I would be starting a new story, also involving Peter and Tony's relationship but maybe from a slightly different light, who knows just yet. I might be taking in some requests, but for now I'm asking you if this should be the end or should I continue.